There’s some weeks that pass without too much going on. They drift by almost unnoticed. Last week wasn’t one of them.
It started with my aortic aneurism scan. I was invited by the NHS to take part in a screening programme (because I’m old) to see if I one of these things. They sent me an appointment letter and a leaflet explaining everything. I looked at the picture on the front of the leaflet, it showed a skeleton with a red pipe down its middle. The pipe had a balloon in it half way down. I didn’t get round to reading the rest of it.
I turned up at the Health Centre in Eccleston and was sent to sit on a row of green seats in a corridor. There was a lady already there who looked about thirty. She explained she was here with her dad and that I would be next one in. Her dad emerged looking unhappy. ‘They say they’ve found something, that I have to go back.’ he said. ‘Are you sure they weren’t looking at your tumour by mistake?’ his daughter asked. The conversation did nothing to raise my spirits.
Inside, a young nurse asked if I’d read the leaflet. Naturally, I lied and said I had. Then, regretting the impulse, I said that I’d forgotten what it said and that she’d better tell me anyway to be on the safe side.
‘Do you drive?’ she asked.
‘Yes’ I answered
‘If we find an aneurism you have to tell the DVLA and they’ll take away your licence.’ She said.
‘Oh,’ was all I could manage in response. By now I was really hoping not to have one.
I was ushered into another room where another nurse smeared gloop over my abdomen and spent five minutes running an ultrasound detector up and down. I asked if it was a boy or a girl, they told me that everyone, yes, e v e r y o n e asks that.
Eventually, after much tense staring at monitors and expelling of breath the nurse announced that I was OK, nothing had been detected, I didn’t have whatever it was they were looking for. I have to tell you I was relieved. I’d managed to convince myself they were bound to find something awful wrong with me.
Not being in possession of a deadly aneurism felt really good. It was worth going just to feel the relief. A good start to the week.
On Wednesday, the print proof of Due Diligence arrived, it looked magnificent. All it needs is a couple of blank pages stripping out then its ready to go.
On Thursday, we finished Proceeds of Crime final copy edit and published it.
Also on Thursday, the jury delivered its verdict. If you remember, I’ve been involved in an eight week trial at Newcastle Crown Court. I’m happy to say that they seem to have listened to our evidence and decided that the farmer accused of operating an illegal landfill site is not guilty. It’s a great relief because in my view the poor guy should never have been charged and he and his family have been subjected to four years of anguish unnecessarily. At least they can get on with their lives now.
So, not your average run of the mill slip by without noticing sort of week.
I plan to make sure all my weeks are as interesting, I can do it simply by staying aware of what’s going on.